Brainwashed or Brain Dead

9F17921C-82C7-4887-89F6-79847C3656F0“Did you read that a cheerleader took a knee at the 49ers football game on Sunday?” Jimmy said. “First it was that quarterback and now it’s a cheerleader.”

“That’s so un-American,” Charlie said. “It puts a taint on the whole NFL. They should fire that cheerleader.”

“I actually support her right to conduct a peaceful protest over the treatment of black people by police,” Sally chimed in. “Just last Friday two more black men were injured by the police.”

“Football games ain’t the place to do that,” Jimmy said. “These people need to honor our flag by standing for our national anthem. What they’re doing is unpatriotic.”

“These people?” Sally screamed. “Are you kidding me? You’re such a fucking racist, Jimmy. What they’re doing is the epitome of patriotism. Your statement is excruciatingly inappropriate.”

Charlie looked at Sally and said, “Dry your eyes, snowflake.”

“That’s it. I’m outta here,” Sally said. As she was leaving she added, “I’d say that you two have been brainwashed by alt-right propaganda, but that’s not possible since both of you are clearly brain dead.”


Written for these one-word prompts: Scotts Daily Prompt (knee), Word of the Day Challenge (taint), Your Daily Word Prompt (support), Ragtag Daily Prompt (Friday), Daily Addictions (excruciating), and Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (dry).

#writephoto — The Gloom

47BFD74B-7538-4F4A-9319-5AF04BF063E9The year was NC221. Thick, dark clouds had enveloped the entire planet since shortly after the Nuclear Holocaust, or NC as it was commonly known. The descendants of the survivors called it “the Gloom.” No one alive had ever seen the sun, the moon, or the stars. There were people who thought that tales of such “heavenly bodies” were nothing more than an ancient mythology.

Simon was leading a small party of gatherers scavenging for insects and, if they were lucky, a large rodent or two. Other hunting parties were looking for small game, such as wild dogs, coyotes, or feral cats. Several species of fish had managed to survive the NC, but because of the levels of radiation and other pollutants in the lakes, ponds, and streams, fish was rarely consumed by the descendants. Few other land species had survived the NC.

Simon and his group had been out for nearly five hours when he decided to take a quick inventory to see if they had collected enough to call it a day. When he was satisfied, he told everyone to grab their bags and they started the trek back to the base camp.

As they reached the top of the last hill before heading down into the valley, they all stopped and stared at the sky off in the distance. Some of the gatherers were frightened by what they saw. Others were in awe. Several even began to cry. Even Simon wasn’t sure what to make of it. There appeared a large hole in the cloud cover,  with a bright light emanating from it. “What is it, Simon?” one of the gatherers asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Simon said. “It may be the sun or the moon shining through a crack in the sky.”

“Or maybe the gods are angry and are going to punish or destroy us,” another said, cowering in fear.

“We shouldn’t be afraid,” Simon said. “Some of the old books talked about how the Gloom might eventually lift. This may be the dawning of a new, bright age and a rebirth of our planet. We should celebrate and not recoil in fear.”

The small party of gatherers hurried back to the base camp, which, by the time they arrived, was bathed in the bright, warm light.


Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt.

Friday Fictioneers — The Game of Chess

3B86664A-789A-4487-A8EC-B9B09CC5F099Danny sat at the end of the table, his eyes almost level with the chessboard. Looking at the chessmen lined up on the squares, he watched his father and uncle alternately move their chessmen around the board, trying to grasp the strange manner in which each piece moved.

His father moved one of the pieces across the board and said “Checkmate!” He smiled and looked at Danny. “What did you think of that?” he asked.

Danny continued starting at the chessboard, saying nothing.

“Danny?” his father said. “I won!”

“Shh,” said Danny, intently watching a small spider crawling across the chessboard.

(100 words)


Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Jeff Arnold.

 

FOWC with Fandango — Dry

FOWCWelcome to November 2, 2018 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “dry.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.